


Convictions

by BarameinBara



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarameinBara/pseuds/BarameinBara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Done for a K-meme prompt. Hawke receives a new companion, a mage who hates and distrusts non-mages as much a Fernis hates and distrusts mages.</p>
<p>Lathian is an elven escapee from the Starkhaven Circle and former lover of Anders, joining Hawke and his companions towards the end of Act I.</p>
<p>....summaries suck, they are not my strong suit....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

****

Convictions

_Blessed are they who stand before_  
The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.  
Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.  
-Benedictions 4:10

 

Lathian grinned as he fought, he reveled in the freedom it represented. It was like another chain removed, another stitch from the wound. A whoop of near maniac laughter bubbled from his lips as the mindless corpses shambled towards him, intent on his destruction with no semblance of self preservation. If they wished for destruction then he would gladly indulge them.

He focused his will, his power thrumming thru him like soundless thunder, unleashing a blast of kinetic force that sent half a dozen of his hapless foes careening into the walls of the cavern. Limbs tore clean off of a couple with the sheer force of the blast as they flew. With a gesture of his closed fist he slammed a second against the ground crushing it outright, while twirling his staff in a spinning arc with his other hand to deftly cave in the skull of yet another. Behind him the boy, Alain, cowered in fear, too terrified to even think of assisting. He paid the lad no heed, it made no difference if he fought or not. Lathian would not fall now, especially not to so clumsy an attack. 

As a wall of icy spears immobilized another three or so he became aware of a handful of new arrivals from the direction of the entrance of the cave. A small party of living beings, three humans, a large hound and, oddly enough, what appeared to be a dwarf, tho he hadn’t the time to take a proper look. He snarled a curse at what he at first thought to be more trouble, but grinned anew when the strangers immediately tore in to the remaining corpses with a furious precision that was truly awe inspiring. In mere moments the last beast fell and a ringing silence filled that dank cave, interrupted only by the heavy breathing of the victors. “Well met strangers!" he said thankfully, sheathing his staff on his back he turned to greet his 'rescuers’. 

Indeed the figure at the back was a dwarf, or he assumed it was, he’d never seen one before. He was beardless but the short stalky stature and broad features were unmistakable. To his right and in front of him was a young human female, dark hair cascading in flowing waves to her shoulders leaning on a staff, a mage then perhaps? Beside her was a tall man in heavy practical field armor, cleaning an equally simple and practical broadsword. His hair was a tad fairer than the woman’s and his eyes a stormy gray instead of her own earthen brown but there was still a clear familial resemblance between them. The huge bear like dog sat at the man’s feet grinning a foolish canine grin as he panted, but as Lathian’s eyes took in the remaining figure the world stopped and his heart wrenched, and judging by the look on the man’s face he wasn’t the only one.

“Blessed Andraste! Anders is... is that you?” He hated the way his voice cracked as he spoke. His throat felt dry and he thought his blood might have frozen in his veins. The question was, of course, rhetorical. He would recognize his fellow mage anywhere. He was older now, far more careworn and holding himself differently but there was no mistaking those honey brown eyes, the long curved nose, and rebellious red-blonde hair. 

For his part tho Anders seemed just as stricken by the sudden reunion as he. “Law! What in blazes are you doing here!?” Lathian could not suppress the grimace at both the hated pet name and ludicrous question, but before he could form a sufficiently venomous response the far larger human had grabbed his arm and pulled him in to a tight embrace. He felt his breath leave him as strong arms wound tightly around his waste, his throat constricting painfully as jagged, faded memories tore open old wounds anew and leaning into the embrace in spite of it. His arms wrapped around the man’s neck on their own accord and his scent washed over him. So achingly familiar but new at the same time, like healing herbs and summer sun, an undertone of death lingering where it had not been before. 

“You idiot” He finally managed to say, voice tight and strained. “I should ask you the same thing.” 

“I take it you know him Anders?” The tall man in armor asked.

Anders pulled away suddenly as if burned, looking both guilty and reluctant, turning to face the other man. “Right, Hawke...” He said lamely, as if just remembering his companions. “This... this is Law-Lathian.” He amended with a look from the aforementioned elf. “He’s a um... friend. From the Fereldan Circle.” 

Lathian snorted with bemusement “That’s one way of putting it.” A salacious smirk quirking one corner of his lips that caused a delicate blush to tint the human’s cheeks and ears. 

“Yes, well..” Anders grunted, and shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Law, this is Hawke.” He said, needlessly indicating the towering warrior. “That’s Bethany, his younger sister.” Pointing to the young woman now, who curtsied. “And that’s Varric” The dwarf nodded his head in acknowledgment and the large dog gave an indignant booming bark, to which Anders rolled his eyes. “And Gratch of course.” 

Lathian lifted one eyebrow with incredulity. “Gratch?” 

 

“It was supposed to be 'Scratch’.” Hawke said with a shrug “but Bethy was only four when we got him.” He continued and Bethany began to blush. “She called him 'Gratch’ and the dumb mutt liked it better.” He ruffled the ears of said 'dumb mutt’ affectionately and the dog barked happily. 

Behind him the dwarf cleared his throat. “Well as delightful as this introduction has been, weren’t we tracking down some errant apostates?”

Hawke’s eyes narrowed at the reminder. “Yes of course. I don’t suppose you two are who we’re after?” 

Two? Lathian was confused for a second before Alain, standing shyly silent and forgotten behind him, stepped up level with his shoulder and spoke. “No Messeres, not exactly.” he began timidly. The poor child still looked terrified. “We split off from the main group.” he continued to explain “We left when they started using blood magic Ser.” At the mention of blood magic Hawke’s eyes narrowed further, down to slits, and his companions each took on scowls of their own, even Gratch. Alain flinched at the sight but continued regardless. “It was Decismus’ decision. He said that the Templars would brand us as blood mages if we fled, why not use it if it’s our best tool?” He began to sag at this point, the hopeless truth of his statement weighing him down. “He slit his wrists and the magic, it rose from the blood and woke the skeletons in the cave.” Alain fell silent, the fear and disgust plainly written on his face.

“We left.” Lathian continued for him. “Decimus is wrong, blood magic is a work of evil. It isn’t just another power the Templars keep from us for spite.” His hands clenched in to fists as he spoke. “It is foolish things like this that ensure we will never be free. And the cowards would drag us all down with them as well. They sent their little puppets to prevent us from escaping.” 

“Maker, I thought I was going to die down here in this, this tomb!” said Alain. “Please, we... I need to go back to the circle!” he stuttered. “I never wanted to get involved with this!”

The warrior, Hawke, frowned in thought. Lathian began to protest Alain’s easy resignation but the human spoke first. “The Templar, Thrask, is waiting outside.” he said. “Surrender to him and I promise you won’t be hurt.”

Alain lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “Then I surrender, take me to the Templar. I want nothing to do with this blood magic!” He spat with surprising venom. 

“The way behind us is clear.” said Hawke. “Make your way to Ser Thrask and we’ll take care of the others.” With a wave of his hand he dismissed Alain, and likely Lathian as well, he realized. 

“Please be careful Serah.” Alain muttered timidly. “Decimus is mad! I think he’d kill us all just to take the Templars down.” He glanced to Lathian, his gaze searching, beseeching almost, but the elf kept his gaze stony. Alain shrugged and turned to leave.

“If you are confronting them then I would assist you.” Lathian growled stubbornly. “I will not suffer Maleficar to live, and I certainly will not allow others to fight my battles for me.” He expected the human to protest, but he was pleasantly surprised when he received a fierce grin instead.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” said the warrior.

His sister smiled as she nodded towards the back of the cave. “Then let’s get going shall we? Mustn’t keep them waiting.” 

Lathian nodded his affirmation, turning to lead them back to the main group and ignoring the way his chest tightened as Anders fell in to step beside him. Their hands brushed lightly, so fleeting it might have been coincidence, but the tight lipped smile the taller mage offered him confirmed that is wasn’t. 

“I can’t believe how different you look.” Anders muttered to him, keeping his voice low and the conversation private as they walked. “I didn’t even recognize you at first.” he chuckled softly. “I like your hair long, but I’m not sure you have enough piercings yet.” he stroked one of Lathian’s long tapered ears as he said this, along with the five small silver hoops that adorned it and the jeweled cuff near the pointed tip, causing Lathian to shudder as he himself fiddled with the five matching rings in his other ear. “And your tongue? Really?” Anders continued with a grin. Lathian flicked said silver studded digit at him in a mockery of childish irritation before grinning with mischief himself.

“Only the beginning, believe me.” he purred, salacious smirk returning full force. Anders returned it in kind, arching one golden brow questioningly as he did but receiving only a teasing “You’ll see.” in response.

Their eyes met and for a moment they simply looked at each other, a myriad of emotions flickering behind them. They both opened their mouthes to speak at they same time but where interrupted when voices where heard up ahead, too distant and muted to even guess at their intent. Hawke pressed forward, taking the lead as they climbed a set of wooden stairs cautiously, careful not to make any sound and straining to hear the murmuring voices a little better. 

“That will be them, then.” Lathian said in a low voice. “It’s likely they will wish to fight but be careful, every one of them is a fully harrowed mage.” Hawke nodded his understanding before checking that his sword was clear in it’s sheath on his back, his companions readying their weapons as well but leaving them sheathed. A diplomatic approach then. 

The cavernous final room was awash with pale blue light. A small circle of mages knelt near the center, surrounding an entranced Decimus and chanting in low voices. Behind them where more of their fellows, some sitting, some standing, all looking nervous and strained. At the sound of their approach Decimus leapt to his feet, the blue-white light that emanated from him vanishing as he did so. 

“They’re here!” he exclaimed. “The templars have come to take us back to the circle!”

“Decimus no!” Grace warned, standing to Decimus’ right “Stay your hand, these are no templars!”

He ignored the woman, “What do I care what shield they carry?” He sneered. He clutched his staff in both hands as he focused his will, scarlet light radiating from his blood stained hands. “If they challenge us then it is the dead that will meet the call!”

The crimson light Decimus had gathered exploded in a blinding flash as all around them came a series of ominous scuffling noises. When the light dissipated a dozen skeletons clambered to their feet, swaying weirdly like marionettes under the control of a drunken puppeteer. Without missing a beat Hawke and his companions drew their weapons, the dog letting loose a blood curdling battle howl. They acted with the swift precision of experience as they all flung themselves in to battle. Each had already felled at least one foe before Lathian had even gotten his staff clear. 

He would pay for his slow reflexes. The instant his staff was in his hands he was struck, staggering back a step as an arrow was loosed from a skeletal archer, sinking into the meat of his left bicep. Pain. Shrieking, burning, magnificent pain consumed him. Lathian shuddered and moaned with the exquisite feel of it, panting as his lips spread in a maniacal grin. He allowed his left arm to fall limp and useless at his side, snapping of the fletched end of the arrow still embedded in his flesh with a grunt. It didn’t matter, he only needed the one arm. He lifted his staff in his remaining hand, drawing on his most delicious pain to fuel his focus. Fire, red hot and roaring, erupted from it’s tip, engulfing the offending archer and two of it’s fellows that had been standing too close. There was a thunderous cracking sound as they exploded into shards of flaming bone. 

Lathian’s grin widened at the spectacle and he took a moment to scan the scene before him. Already most of the skeletons had been felled by Hawke and his companions and the rest where swiftly being torn apart. Decimus stood behind them, encased in a bubble of blue energy as he focused on pulling the strings of his macabre puppets. He was dead the instant that shield fell, Lathian would be sure of it. 

He took his time gathering his energy, his wound all but forgotten save for a dull ache that only served to empower him, fueling his frenzied blood lust and tempering it into steely determination. Force magic gathered at the forefront of his mind, pressure building up behind his eyes and making his head feel too full. It was sweet agony as he held it, waiting for the moment to strike. 

As the last skeleton fell to a sweeping arc of Hawke’s greatsword Decimus’ shield dropped. It was clear the blood mage intended to strike swiftly, hoping to get in the first hit before he was overwhelmed but it was a very foolish hope. The instant he was vulnerable he was dead. Lathian released the spell he’d been restraining with a shout. Decimus lifted into the air for a moment, the very beginnings of a scream tearing from his throat before he was crushed like an insect into a cloud of bloody vapor and a pile of unrecognizable gore. Half a racing heartbeat later he was simultaneously frozen by a blast of ice from Anders and burned by a fireball by Bethany, a bolt from Varric’s crossbow sinking uselessly into steaming meat. It seemed he wasn’t the only one waiting to strike then.

Lathian sagged as the spell took it’s toll. It had required an exorbitant amount of mana, and he had already expended much of his energy in his earlier fight. He knew it was foolish to cast such a costly spell but in the heat of the moment his reason had left him. Panting with exertion and sweating like a Brother in a brothel, Lathian staggered forward to fall in line behind Hawke, leaning on his staff for support. 

Grace stepped up from the small crowd to meet them. “You killed him!” she gasped in horror. “Oh Decimus, you should have listened to me love.” She aimed an accusing glare at Lathian. “You!” she growled. “Your one of us! How could you turn against your own?” 

“He was not one of ‘my own’. He was a Maleficar that deserved his fate.” He said evenly. To tired to bother being acidic.

Grace deflated at his tone and looked away. “Decimus gave us the courage to face the templars. Without him we would be prisoners still.”

“He obviously meant a lot you.” Hawke said sympathetically.

“He was our future! Until he came we never thought to fight back.” She began to pace irritably. “I told Decimus he was going too far, but he said it was the only way to protect us... To protect me.” She gave Hawke a look of desperate pleading. “Please, we only want our freedom. Without your help the templars will execute us all for Decimus’ crimes.”

Hawke sighed wearily. “What would you ask of us then?”

“There was a templar who followed us, you must have met him when you entered.” Her gazed turned steely and cold. “Kill him, and we can get clear of Kirkwall before the templars send more men.”

“Richard." Bethany warned, placing a hand on her brother’s armored shoulder. “I would not see these mages killed, but if we start murdering templars we’ll pull their fury down on us!” her brow furrowed with worry. 

The chill in Grace’s gaze vanished, replaced by her own worry. “Will you buy us time to flee Kirkwall?”

Hawke gave her a reassuring smile. “Leave it to us. By the time we’re finished these templars will swear that the sky is green.”

Grace offered him her own wan smile. “Your confidence almost makes me believe you, but I spent two weeks traveling with these templars.” Her eyes hardened once more. “They strike first and ask questions never, they will be far easier to kill than to fool.”

Hawke nodded that he understood before turning to leave, the whole lot of apostates following after him and talking amongst themselves excitedly. When they had nearly reached the mouth of the cave Hawke turned to them, holding up a cautionary hand and asking them all to wait as he went ahead without them. Lathian made to follow but Anders raised his own hand of warning to stop him. “They may try to take you back to the Circle if you come with us.” He explained. “I would wish the Gallows on no mage, least of all you.” Lathian sighed irritably but muttered that he understood. Anders smiled warmly at him brushing the tips of his fingers along Lathian’s jaw briefly before turning to follow Hawke himself.

The feel of the Anders’ touch lingered, his skin tingling and warm, causing memories long buried to resurface once more. They made his throat burn and eyes water, somehow his heart managed to wilt and flutter at the same time, and his gut writhed. He thought he might be sick. 

With a pained and tired groan Lathian trudged to the back of the group where he lowered himself to sit on an outcropping of rock, back to the wall and determinately ignoring his fellows. They waited in nervous silence for Hawke to return. Grace, hovering near the mouth of the cave to listen in, seemed surprised and amused at the turn of events. 

After a surprisingly brief period of time she turned to beam at them. “They did it!” She breathed, her features awash with warm relief as she stepped out into the sun light, the rest of the Starkhaven apostates following after her. Lathian stayed back, allowing the others to file out ahead of him before pushing to his feet with a sigh. By the time he had fully exited the cave Grace and the others where already walking away, Hawke and his entourage watching them leave. 

Anders smiled at him as he approached, his expression sad and wistful in the afternoon sun, his eyes roaming over Lathian’s elvhen form as if to reacquaint themselves with it. However, his smile swiftly shifted to a look of exasperated disbelief when they landed on his left arm. 

“How long has that bloody arrow been there!?” he demanded.

Lathian glanced down at the offending appendage and was startled to realize that there was no small amount of blood trickling down to his loosely hanging fingers, the broken shaft of the skeleton’s arrow still protuding from either side. He smiled as the forgotten pain reawakened at the remembrance of his injury, marveling at how easily he’d forgotten it.

“I bet you forgot it was even there.” Anders huffed, echoing his thoughts amusingly. He continued to rant to himself about ‘psychotic elves’ as he charged forward to inspect the wound. He grabbed the barbed head of the arrow without preamble and yanked the shaft the rest of the way through. Lathian gasped at the unexpected flare of pain, a small grunt tearing from his throat before he could prevent it. Anders rolled his eyes at him. “Normal people would be screaming you know.” He said with amusement. “Or sobbing at least.” 

“I’m not ‘normal people’.” replied Lathian with his own rolled eyes and bemused smile. 

Anders shrugged and shook his head but said nothing, laying one long fingered hand over Lathian’s arm. There was a soft humming sound as light, blue as the sky, radiated from the hand and a warmth like noon day sun spread over him. He could not fully suppress his shudder at the familiar feel of Ander’s magic, somehow both comforting and strange. Lathian felt almost disappointed as his pain began to fade, turning instead to dreadful itching for a moment before that was gone too, replaced with only a feeling of wholeness. In mere moments his wound was healed completely, two tiny circular patches of tender pink skin and long trails of drying blood the only indicators that it had ever existed. 

Anders squeezed his arm affectionately before dropping hhis own to his side. “So what now?” he asked hesitantly, his eyes darting around as if he could not decide what he should look at. “What are your plans now that you’re free?”

Lathian shrugged noncommittally. “I figured I would find some small border town and settle down. Become a mercenary or open up a shop.” He hugged himself as he spoke, suddenly feeling very tired and cold. “Anywhere with fewer templars or less Chantry involvement.” Anders nodded as he swallowed thickly, his amber eyes where filled with sorrowful understanding.

Hawke shifted behind him. “You could stay here.” He suggested

“Kirkwall?” Lathian asked incredulously. “That’s not exactly my dream of ‘fewer templars and less Chantry involvement’.” but beside him Anders brightened considerably.

“We could make it work!” He said enthusiastically. “Bethany and I are apostates but we get by. You could help with the mage underground! Or work in my clinic!” 

Lathian frowned. “The what now? What clinic?”

“Mage underground!” Anders explained, ignoring Lathian’s disbelieving look. “We fight for mage freedom by freeing them from the wretched Gallows, and I have a free clinic in Darktown as well.” 

“Those are very noble causes.” Lathian said hesitantly. “Very self sacrificing. Who are you, and what have you done with Anders?” The dwarf, Varric, sniggered as he said this, clapping him on the back, but Anders’ expression grew distant and sad once more. 

“I’ve had to step up quite a bit the last couple of years.” He said morosely. “A lot of things have changed.” he seemed to turn in on himself as he said this, his eyes becoming cloudy and distant as if lost in thought. 

Lathian’s heart ached to soothe the man’s pain but his reason insisted that staying in Kirkwall, of all places, for the sake of an old... ‘friend’ would be foolish in the extreme. “It will be difficult enough to start a new life without hiding from so many templars...” he began, and Anders’ breath caught and he found himself unwilling to continue as the man gave him the most heart wrenching ‘you kicked my puppy’ look he’d ever seen. Lathian had forgotten how hard it was to say no to Anders...

Hawke seemed to grimace himself at the pained expression on the mage’s face, looking contemplative before a clear flash of inspiration lit his rugged features. “If you want mercanry work I could hire you.” He said, addressing Lathian. “Bethy and I are planning an expedition into the Deep Roads and extra fire power is always welcome.” 

“And tho loathe I am to admit it sometimes, I have strong ties to the merchant guild as well.” added Varric helpfully, his tone one of enticement. Like a man offering food to a stray dog. “If you’re interested in setting up some sort of shop I could get you hooked up with my contacts. You already have a trade?” he asked inquiringly, tho his tone suggested that he didn’t expect the elf to have an affirmative answer. 

Lathian lifted his hands and wiggled the backs of his fingers at the dwarf, indicating the many silver rings that decorated them. “Jewel crafting.” he clarified. “Most mages take up hobbies to occupy themselves in the Circle. One of the nicer templars had been a jeweler prior to joining the order, he taught me.”

Bethany smiled at the telling, seeming intrigued by fond stories of Circle life. “What was your hobby then, Anders?” she asked curiously

Anders snorted. “Escaping.” He said levelly.

Varric shook his head as he chuckled with amusement. “So what’ll it be Jewels.” He said to Lathian spreading his hands in supplication. “Care to join our merry band?”

Lathian’s brows lifted so high he was sure they had disappeared into his hairline. “Jewels?”

Varric shrugged “Elf and Blondie are both already taken, and well...” He gestured at Lathian’s plethora of accessories as if to illustrate his point that ‘Jewels’ was a perfectly adequate nickname. Lathian felt it best not to argue since he did jingle with enough metal to craft a full set of silverware for four. 

He suppressed a smile as he made a show of thinking Varric’s invitation over. A chance at freedom with Anders? It was quite literally a dream come true. He suspected that a great deal of trouble awaited him in Kirkwall but he found that he actually looked forward to meeting the challenge. 

“Very well.” He said with a mock sigh of exasperation “I’ll join up, but only because you insisted.”


	2. Capter Two

****

Chapter 2

It was already late in the afternoon when they set out for Kirkwall but all of them where eager to be away from the corpse riddled cave. They trekked in companionable silence for hours until the evening’s crimson approach could not be ignored any longer. They set up camp along the rocky coast, sheltered somewhat by a small alcove in the jagged cliffs, the sound of waves roaring against said cliffs nearby was mesmerizing to Lathian. He had never gotten to see much of the ocean. When he had been transfered from Kinloch Hold he had been confined to the cabin he shared with his templar escort for the entire journey, only catching glimpses of the vast sea while being transfered from land to ship and off again.

Since he did not have much in the way of supplies to prepare for the evening he slipped away at his first chance to glimpse what his ears where telling him would be a magnificent sight. He wasn’t disappointed either. The sun was setting a bit to his right, casting light upon the waves in colors he did not have words for, save that they where lovely beyond compare. The roiling waves far below where magnificent, tireless and mighty as they raged against the immovable face of the rocky cliffs. 

For the first time in his life he was overcome with a feeling he had never had before. Freedom. He was not at all certain it was the glorious thing Anders had made it out to be. Sure, huddled together in the cold uncaring halls of the Circle it was easy to believe in the goodness of his enthusiastic stories, of golden fields and wooded hills, life with no walls. But now that Lathian had it, standing alone on the edge of the world with nothing before or behind him... It seemed more cruel and terrible than joyous. He could feel fear creeping up on him. Frightened in a way he had never experienced. He had always had some source of guiding force, some form of firm boundaries set for him. Every day had been certain, unchanging. Lathian frowned with distaste, certain pain, certain fear, certain suffering at the hands of those sworn to protect him, that was no life. But it had been his, the only one he knew and he was disgusted with himself for longing for it. 

“Nice view, isn’t it?” Anders’ voice behind him made him jump, the sound of crashing waves and Lathian’s own absorbing thoughts had masked the sound of his approach. Stormy blue-gray eyes met with warm honey brown ones, and for a long moment they simply gazed at each other. They were both consumed by the same gut wrenching awkwardness of being faced with a former lover you never expected to see again. Both gazes turned distant and uncertain, both seemed to have a thousand questions ready to pour forth at any moment. Both dams broke together.

“Why didn’t you ever write?” They said as one, each voice echoing the same pleading heartache. Their answers came as one too, just as the question had.

“I didn’t know where they’d taken you!” protested Anders

“I did! Every week for a year!” protested Lathian.

A mirror could not have copied their shared reactions so perfectly, slack jawed stares, like deer when wolves leapt upon them, a small stunned silence. Anders was the first to break out of his surprise. “I never received any letters...” His voice was soft and sad, the tiniest note of suspicion creeping in along the edges.

“I wrote them! Every damned week!” Lathian started to explain, he didn’t know why Anders’ pain and doubt hurt so much. He’d thought he’d put this all behind him. “I sent them thru... Thomas! You twisted jealous bastard!” Lathian clenched his fists with sudden fury, his lips curling up in a bestial snarl.

“Ser Thomas? That sick creeper of a Templar? So they did send him with you then.” Anders’ gaze was molten with barely suppressed rage and hatred. “The blighter couldn’t keep his damned eyes off you.” Jealousy began to flicker in with the anger now, blazing bright, white hot. “Did you know he was the one that turned us in? That requested your transfer?” 

Lathian felt like he’d been punched in the stomach before being dunked in ice water, his smoldering wrath turned sickly and cold at Anders’ revelation. “I... no, I had no idea.” He said softly, his voice tiny and distant.

“He came to me in my cell when they where punishing us. He bragged to me about how foolish I was to let you slip away, thanked me for being being foolish enough to hand you to him.” Anders eyes where blazing with fury as he said this his teeth gritted in a snarl. “He told me I’d never see you again and by the time I was let out you where both gone and no one would tell me where they’d taken you.”

“That little shit!" Lathian cursed. “He told me that you had turned us in! That you didn’t wish to be seen with me after the templars found out about us...” he wrapped his arms about himself, he felt drained and sick. How much time had he spent hating the wrong man? How had he been so blind?

Suddenly, and without warning Lathian found himself in his second surprise embrace of the day, his face pressed to one feathery shoulder. Anders’ arms were tight and warm about him, his lips pressed to Lathian’s ear, feather light, his voice soft, low and full of torment. “I would never have cast you aside like that.” Lathian could not suppress his tremble at those words. They where almost exactly what Thomas had said when he’d told Lathian that Anders had betrayed him. 

He wanted so much to believe Anders, as he had wanted to believe Thomas. He had no idea what was true. He and Anders had only been together a few months before they got caught, then Thomas had swooped in like a white knight to comfort him when everything went awry. He’d asked to be transfered with Lathian, ‘so that he had a friendly face’ and could no doubt be watched more closely. They had been together for the better part of three years. But the thought of Thomas’ betrayal in the end was still too fresh a wound. He had no desire to inspect it now, especially not while he was enfolded in Anders’ arms once more, against all odds.

“I did write, I swear to you...” he said into Anders’ pauldron, unwilling to meet his honeyed gaze and hating how frail and childish he sounded. “You know how they always read our mail? To make sure we’re not planning anything?” he felt Anders nod, his curved nose nudging gently along Lathian’s jaw. “Thomas offered to send my letters for me, to ‘ensure privacy’ he’d said. No one would tamper with a templar’s letters. I’d bet my life the spiteful ass just burned them the first chance he got.” he shifted his arms from where they had been pinned against Anders’ chest allowing them to wrap loosely about his waist instead. He pushed in closer, savoring the small comfort. “The jealous bastard.” Lathian growled. “Three years and he never let anyone else touch me, beat the shit out of a few people that looked at me wrong even.”

“That was charitable of him” Anders snorted. “Good of him to keep the other bucket heads off you.”

Lathian chuckled despite himself. “Oh my sweet naive Anders.” he said, his tone cold but full of amusement. “Sure he protected me, professed to love me even. But I wasn’t a person to him. For three years, three fucking years Anders, he kept me like a pet. And oh how I loved him for it too.” Lathian pulled away a little at that, bile rising in his throat at the memories he had tried to repress and studying Anders’ horror stricken face, finding that it didn’t effect him as he thought it should. What good was the man’s pity now? It didn’t warm him, didn’t comfort him. He was cold and utterly empty. “It never even occurred to me to hate him at first.” he continued “Sure many of the things he wished of me where painful and demeaning but I deserved it, craved it, even. He was my protector, my lifeline, a solid rock amidst an ocean storm. I lived for him, he made sure of it.”

“What changed?” Anders asked, clearly dreading the answer. He tried to pull Lathian close once more but the elf resisted. He refused to be coddled. 

“I found him with someone else.” he sneered. “A sweet little apprentice half his age. Cooing the same endearments in her ear that he had repeated to me a thousand times while he bent her over a desk.” Lathian stepped fully away as he said this, the human’s embrace no longer the sweet comfort it had been. “My whole world shattered at the look on the girl’s face, full of the same love and adoration I’m sure mine had held. And his, I’m not sure why I hadn’t seen it before but his eyes where cold as a hurlock’s smile, and just as cruel.” Lathian began to pace before the human mage with nervous energy, rage, hatred, and disgust waging a war in his heart and mind. “He just smiled at me when he saw me. No regret, no shame. Told me to ‘wait my turn’ and laughed. Maker how that laughter haunts me.” his blood boiled at the memory of it, seething with impotent fury. “To say I was somewhat disillusioned after that would be the understatement of the Age.” He quickened his pacing, clenching his fists until his knuckles where white and his nails dug in to his palms, his jaw set so firmly it began to ache. 

After a few passes he felt warm fingers brush his arm as he stalked past, not seeing his fellow mage and shrugging off his attempts at comfort. “I’m so sorry Law.” Anders’ voice was sweet and sincere, the tone of it surprised Lathian. He stilled for a moment, peering at the man with a mixture of mistrust and longing. He searched the amber gaze for any deception but Anders was an open book, he always had been. He could be clever and mischievous when he wished to be, but he was total rubbish at being anything less than a hundred percent honest. Lathian had forgotten how much he’d missed that openness. He felt some of his tension leave him in the face of that tender sincerity, a small smile curling the corners of Anders lips when he saw Lathian relax a little, giving him courage enough to continue. “I hope you fried the bastard’s face off then and there.” He spat with venom.

Lathian raised one sculpted brow at that but allowed his own small smile. “Actually, I continued to play his game.” He said levelly and without inflection, but he could not suppress his bitter laughter as Anders began to sputter with confused indignation.

“How could you!?” he all but screeched. “Lathian! I thought you had more self respect than that!”

Lathian snorted, ‘oh so now he uses my actual name’ he thought but said instead. “I do, but only just. I did not continue our ‘relationship’ out of any misguided love for the templar, believe you me.” He felt his smile widen now, but he knew it must look completely devoid of warmth. “I played his game, sure, but with a new set of rules. I turned the tables and made him the pawn.” 

Lathian resumed his pacing but it was without his earlier furious rancor. “The instant I was away I sought out Decimus. His hatred of the Templars was only a very thinly veiled secret, the fool.” He paused to give Anders a teasing smile at the last two words, before continuing with his explanation. “He did not trust me at first, as I had expected he wouldn’t but I was patient and insistent and after a time he allowed me into his confidence. Being the personal pet of a high ranking and well loved Templar allowed me freedoms, privileges and access to things denied to all but the Senior and First Enchanters. The templars trusted me as they trusted no other mage and I was a very valuable asset to the Starkhaven mage resistance playing the double agent.”

He allowed himself a moment of pride at this, “The deception had been difficult and excruciatingly humiliating with my illusions shattered.” he said. “But my wrath was insatiable and vengeance a worthy goal.” He saw something flicker in Anders’ gaze at the mention of ‘vengeance’ a sort of cold approval that looked alien on his warm features but Lathian paid it little mind. 

“It was a magnificent little game.” He said with amusement. “Decimus and Thomas were both convinced I danced on their strings while ensnaring themselves in mine all the while. Together Decimus and I orchestrated the fire that burned down the circle. We freed ourselves and our comrades, but it wasn’t enough.” Lathian stopped to face Anders as he finished, standing tall and proud, filled with grim satisfaction and not an ounce of pity. “I found Thomas in the confusion and I made him pay.” He said simply. “You would not have believed his screams, ‘frying his face off’ would have been a mercy he did not deserve. I saw that his punishment was just and very very sweet.” 

Anders seemed taken aback at his conclusion, gone was the quiet, serene young apprentice he’d once known, replaced with this bitter, vindictive elf that reveled in his merciless retribution. Lathian could not have cared less what the man thought of him. He’d not be made to feel ashamed of claiming what he deserved. He had fought hard for his freedom, he would not allow regret to enslave him anew. He thought the human would turn from him in disgust, or try to lecture him, but he was met instead with a fierce and welcoming grin. He had certainly not expected that. 

He thought he might have seen a tiny flash of blue in Anders’ eyes before the man clapped him on the back and Lathian had to try not to be staggered by the unexpected weight of the blow. “I’m proud of you.” he’d said, his voice uncharacteristically rough and deep, almost as if another lower voice layered over his, but Anders shook his head as if to ward off drowsiness and when he spoke again his voice was normal, if a little strained. “I can only imagine what you’ve been thru to get here, but I’m glad that you are. I missed you.”

He cupped his hand to Lathian’s jaw and for a moment it was like nothing had changed between them, like three years of misery had not stood between them. Their gazes met, and they where freshly harrowed little mages again, stealing a tender moment between lessons. They leaned towards each other instinctively, lips straining to meet once more. Once they did, however, it became apparent that things had changed, many things. They were not the men they had been. 

If it was familiarity they had sought in that kiss then it was denied them, the strangeness of it was electrifying. Anders was too lean and muscular, his face too rough with stubble, the faint scent of death still lingered where it had not been three years ago. And Lathian, he was broken completely now. He’d always been a little cracked for as long as they’d known each other, but now those cracks where gaping maws that consumed all the warmth and joy the kiss had offered, replacing them with desperate hunger and leaving him recklessly greedy for more. He didn’t care how wrong and discordant it felt, it was wonderful regardless. 

Lathian wrapped his arms about the human’s neck, pulling himself flush against the broader, taller form, and entwining his fingers in red-gold hair. He pulled Anders’ face down to his, tilting his own head to the side to deepen the kiss, the tip of his tongue flicking against the other man’s lips, seeking entrance. A pleased grunt escaped him when permission was granted and his tongue was allowed to plunder the warm depths of Anders’ mouth. There was a faint unpleasant taste that seemed to go with the smell of death but it didn’t bother Lathian, not enough to make him stop, and it was almost entirely overshadowed by the achingly familiar sweetness anyway. 

He smirked internally when an idea struck his lust addled brain. He gathered a tiny amount of his will and, entwining his tongue around Anders’, released a humming spark of electricity from the metal stud embedded in it. He was entirely too pleased by the shuddering, groaning, gasp that tore thru the human at the sensation, and he didn’t even try to suppress the hungry moan that escaped him when Anders took control from him as a result, clutching tightly at the elf’s firm arse and grinding against him with a slow roll of his hips. ‘Well someone was certainly excited’ Lathian thought to himself, amused by the firm bulge that had been pressed hard to his lower abdomen, but he couldn’t blame the human, he was every bit as wanting. 

Lathian started to reach for his prize, allowing one hand to slip from Anders’ hair and slide it’s way down his chest and stomach, admiring the lean muscles that flexed under the thick material of his robes. However when his fingers dipped just bellow the other man’s navel there came the sound of a throat being cleared to their right. Lathian huffed a sigh of barely contained frustration, deliberately ignoring the dwarf that stood smirking at them. Anders tried to leap away like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar but Lathian held fast, allowing his hand to finish it’s journey and grasping the human’s manhood firmly. He could feel the heat of the mans blush as he gasped with a mix of pleasure and shock. 

Lathian placed one final searing, unrepentant, kiss to the corner of Anders’ jaw before releasing him to face the dwarf. “We’re busy.” he said bluntly. 

Varric grinned. “I can see that.” He said, without a hint of remorse and no small amount of amusement. “And ordinarily I wouldn’t interrupt, but dinner is ready and it’s getting dark.”

And indeed it was, the sun’s passing was now marked only by a sliver of crimson and violet on the horizon, stars and moon twinkling. Already the path back to camp was nearly indecipherable, but that wouldn’t have stopped Lathian on it’s own, for what kind of obstacle was darkness to someone that could shoot fire from their fingertips? But he’d scarcely eaten in the two week journey from Starkhaven and he was famished, a sentiment he was surprised to see echoed by Anders when his stomach growled comically. 

Lathian glanced at Anders, smiling wryly. “We’re not finished.” he stated simply before pulling his staff from his back and lighting it with a tiny burst of power. Not bothering to wait for any form of confirmation. He used his staff as a torch to light their path as they picked their way amongst craggy boulders, leading the way back to their small encampment and thankful for his robes. The loose material hid his straining erection while allowing him freedom enough to walk somewhat comfortably, feeling not at all envious of Anders with his trousers. 

They ate a simple meal, a stew made from dried meat and potatoes, it was bland but filling, and he was amazed by the fervor with which Anders consumed it, eating three bowls to everyone else’s one. The other four chatted companionably while they ate but much of it went over Lathian’s head so he found his attention wandering, mostly towards Anders. 

He liked the way the firelight made his hair glow, causing it to echo the fire’s own reddish hue more closely. And now that he had the time to really examine him he was amazed at how truly different he looked. The crinkled edges at the corners of his eyes seemed to be as much from age now as from laughter, and he was much thinner, gaunt even, his chin, cheeks, and jaw sharper and more pointed. But despite the air of threadbare exhaustion his added age suited him well. Very well, Lathian found himself thinking when the other man had turned to smile at him. 

“So what’s your story Jewels?” Asked Varric out of seemingly nowhere, effectively snapping Lathian out of his Anders induced reverie. The dwarf seemed to be developing a most unfortunate knack for getting between him and Anders. “Here we’ve invited you to the party and we know next to nothing about you, aside from some form of prior involvement with Anders.” the lecherous manner in which he said ‘involvement’ caused the aforementioned mage to blush and Lathian to smirk with equal lechery. 

“Not a whole lot to tell really.” Lathian replied with a shrug. “I’m the son of two Circle mages. I was raised in a Chantry orphanage in Ferelden until I showed signs of magic, then I was shipped right on back to the Circle, to Kinloch Hold.” his tone stayed neutral as he said this but his eyes flashed with obvious anger. “I grew up in the tower. Ran afoul of the Templars a few months after my Harrowing and got transfered to Starkhaven, decided to make a break for it when the Circle burned, and the rest you know.” 

“What happened to your parents?” Asked Hawke, his brow furrowing. “Do you know? Why they didn’t raise you, I mean.”

Lathian gave Anders a despairing glance before he answered. “Babies born to circle mages are taken from their mothers immediately.” He said softly. “Most don’t even get to name their children before they’re taken. I was a lucky one, my mother was lucid enough after the birth to insist on my name before they took me. At least that’s what the Revered Mother had said when I asked her.” Lathian pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them. “As for what became of my parents after, I never knew. I wasn’t aloud to know what circle they’d been a part of but I’m reasonably sure it wasn’t Ferelden’s, given a distinct lack of elvhen mages of the appropriate age and familial resemblance.” 

“That’s terrible.” Hawke replied quietly, he looked ill at ease and angry. Lathian was more than a little bit suspicious of his sympathy. He hadn’t known the man even existed this morning but here was was, getting upset over bits of his past that had long since stopped bothering him... much. It didn’t make any sense. 

“So ah, how did you and Anders become er.. friends then.” Bethany asked cautiously, hoping to lighten the mood no doubt.

“Anders was ‘friends’ with pretty much everybody.” Lathian said with a laugh, smirking at Anders’ poorly feigned look of offense and thankful for the chance to change the subject somewhat. “But we bonded especially well over being the only two mages is the blighted tower that couldn’t be arsed to ask ‘how high?” when the templars said ‘jump’.” he continued. “ Anders out of some misguided desire to be rebellious, and I out of a complete and utter lack of caring.” 

“The commonalities wouldn’t have mattered much in the end,” Anders added, smiling mischievously “After all, I was a very ‘friendly’ fellow. I’d have made a move sooner or later. Creepy wallflower or not, he was still too pretty to resist forever.” He grinned at Lathian and winked playfully. Lathian ‘playfully’ aimed an especially suggestive hand gesture at him. “That better be a promise.” Anders said, unfazed. The Hawkes sniggered while Varric muttered something about children behaving. 

“So what’s your story Anders?” Lathian asked, eager to be away from this topic too, lest he jump the man in front of them all. “How long have you managed to stay free this time? And why Kirkwall of all places?” 

Anders sighed wearily. “Maker, it’s been... near two years since I left the circle? I made a break for it when there were rumors about a Blight, I figured it would cover my tracks nicely.” He grimaced. “And just my luck, it was the shortest Blight in history. The whole thing was over less than a year later, and the flaming templars where right back on my trail as soon as it was ended. They caught up with me in Amaranthine.” 

He laughed darkly and shot Lathian a lopsided and humorless grin. “You’ll never believe what happened next, tho.” he taunted. “They brought me back to Vigil’s Keep, newly assigned to the Grey Wardens, to rest and restock before returning to the Circle. And wouldn’t you know it, we were attacked by Darkspawn that very night.” he paused after saying this, for dramatic effect most likely, considering the smug smirk. 

“The darkspawn killed the templars, and I killed the last few darkspawn myself. Then right as I finished off the last one who should walk in on me standing over a bunch of templar corpses but the Hero of Ferelden, Theron Mahariel, himself.” Varric loosed a low whistle at this while the Hawkes gasped appreciatively, Lathian furrowed his brow but said nothing, too intrigued by the story to interrupt. 

“Long story short.” Anders continued. “The Warden Commander enlisted my aid in recapturing the Keep, then invoked the rite of conscription to make me a warden when Rylock turned up afterwards and tried to have me hanged for the death of her templars.”

“You’re a Gray Warden?” Lathian interjected, unable to contain himself at the sheer strangeness of this revelation.

“Was.” Anders corrected. “Just hold on, I’ll get to that.” He took a deep breath in preparation before continuing on. “So I went on some adventures with the Hero of Ferelden,” he said with an air of nonchalance that made Lathian grin. “and fought a load of darkspawn, smarter and crazier than the usual ones.”

“Oh, and made some wonderful new friends!” he added, almost as if in an after thought. “Including but not limited to the spunkiest member of the Legion of the Dead in Thedas, the crankiest and most broody noble in Ferelden, and a spirit of Justice trapped outside the Fade.”

“A spirit of Justice? Trapped outside the Fade how?” Lathian asked, intrigued. He’d always had a weakness for Fade lore.

“Blood magic, how else?” Anders shrugged. “Anyway... I served with the Wardens for months, and it was alright. For a while it felt like I belonged there and I was happy... Then the Commander left on sabbatical, to chase after his Antivan lover or some such nonsense.” at this his face grew tight and he seemed reluctant to continue but the moment passed and he trudged on. “The Orlesian warden they sent to replace him was far less open minded towards mages. He recruited a templar named Rolan and, naturally, stuck the blighter with me for every assignment. Nothing was ever said outright but it was pretty clear he’d been sent by the Chantry to keep an eye on me.” Anders eyes narrowed as he said this and Lathian was almost certain he’s seen another tiny flash of blue in their honeyed depths. 

“Rolan made it his personal mission to make my life a living hell. Then one day we where on a mission with Justice. We had gotten close under the new Commander, we where both considered ‘dangerous outcasts’ I suppose, and Justice was furious with how we where being treated.” Anders’ voice became hollow and distant as he spoke, and he seemed unwilling to meet anyone’s eyes as he stared into the fire. 

“I don’t really remember the details but he convinced me to act as his new host. The corpse he had been forced to possess was rotting out from under him, and he wished to return the body to the man’s wife. He said we could help each other, that he’d give me the strength and will to bring justice to all mages. I must have agreed because I blacked out, and when I woke up I wasn’t the same. I- I can’t even describe how strange it was. Waking up with a completely different personality superimposed over yours. Irrevocably changed. Like trying to write on a piece of paper that’s already full, the words all jumbled and confused.”

There was yet another flash of blue this time, lingering long enough that Lathian was less sure he’d imagined it, and when Anders spoke his voice was different, lightly tinged with a deep, harsh, and alien tone. “Rolan had betrayed us, he brought a group of templars down upon us. Sought to destroy us. We tore them apart, and not figuratively either.” He shook his head at the memory, still staring at the fire intently and looking forlorn, but when he spoke again his voice was his alone. “When I looked at what I had done... it was monstrous. Justice had changed, I had changed. I knew I could not stay with the Wardens any longer, so I ran. Like I always do.”

“You... you allowed a spirit to posses you?” Lathian could not believe what he was hearing. 

“I tried to help a friend.” Anders protested. 

“Of course you did.” Lathian said with an exasperated sigh.

Anders looked positively tortured. Sweat had begun to bead at his brow and he seemed incapable of looking anyone in the eye. With his shoulders hunched and head hung low he looked like he was expecting someone to start hitting him. It made Lathian’s heart ache to see it. Shaking his head he rose to his feet, crossing the distance between the two of them so he could kneel on the ground at Anders feet, there being no room beside the human on the rock he sat upon. Anders flinched instinctively at his approach and Lathian almost did hit him for it, for not trusting him, but instead he wrapped his arms around Anders waist, embracing him tightly as he pressed his face into the man’s stomach.

Anders seemed rather taken aback by this reaction. “You’re... not upset with me?” he asked, patting Lathian’s pale golden hair awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

Lathian laughed, pulling away from the embrace. “Oh Anders, you hapless fool. It seems to me that you have been upset enough with yourself for the both of us.” he folded his arms across the other man’s lap and rested his head upon them, giving Anders a lopsided grin. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not in the least bit surprised. Only you would become an abomination out of the goodness of you heart.” 

Beside them Varric was shaking his head with stunned bemusement “That’s still a remarkably laid back attitude to take when finding out your friend is renting out his head space to a Fade spirit.” he said.

Anders snorted. “I shouldn’t have expected anything different, really. Nothing shakes Law, I’ve seen the blighted elf just grin and ask for more during a flogging he hadn’t earned.”

Lathian could not suppress his dark chuckle and perverse grin. “Ah good times, poor dears had no idea how to handle that." his shoulders shook with near silent laughter for a time before he stilled enough to continue. “But even I have my limits.” he said softly, and the memories of Thomas’ screams where so loud in his ears he was almost amazed the others couldn’t hear them too. “It is true, however, that very few things bother me.” he continued. “Another expression of my continual inability to give a shit a lot of the time.” he said with a shrug before rounding on Anders. “But my ridiculous flaws aside, you haven’t finished your story Anders, why Kirkwall!?”

Anders sighed. “Right, Kirkwall. Well that requires the tiniest bit of back story. You remember Karl, don’t you?” he was pinching the bridge of his nose now, as if trying to ward off a headache and he looked grim and tired again.

Lathian‘s brow raised “Our history instructor, Messere Silverfox? Who could forget him?” he said with a light laugh, hoping to get Anders to smile. He succeeded, but only just. A tiny flicker of amusement at the corner of the other man’s mouth before it was replaced with strained sorrow.

“He was sent to Kirkwall just a couple of months after you where transfered.” Anders explained, his tone forlorn but a tiny smirk curved the corner of his lips. “He wrote to me.” he teased. “And we kept in touch, while I was on the run during the Blight and after when I served with the Wardens. His letters where alarming, unsurprisingly the Gallows where more a prison than a traditional Circle, he begged me to come and rescue him but my duty to the Wardens prevented it.” he grimaced “So naturally when I left the Wardens I felt obligated to go it him.” 

Lathian could only shake his head in dismay, hadn’t it been only earlier today that he’d scoffed at the idea of staying in blighted Kirkwall for the sake of an old flame? And Anders had come running from across the sea to do just that. Lathian would have felt humbled if he hadn’t found it so blasted idiotic. 

“So did you succeed? Where is Karl?” he asked, but he regretted it almost immediately. All four of the others grimaced, all looking heartsick and hesitant, but none more that Anders, who seemed near tears.

“Karl is dead.” Anders whispered, his voice crackling with barely restrained emotion. “They made him Tranquil and used him as bait to catch me.” 

“You said he was dead, not Tranquil.” Lathian said levelly, feeling bile rise in his throat regardless. "I realize there isn't much of a difference but you're wording suggests there's more to this."

“I lost it when I saw what the bloody templars had done, completely. Justice took me over and we destroyed the flaming blighters.” Anders spat venomously. “When I came back to myself Karl had changed, he was himself again, but only for a moment. He told us he could feel himself slipping again and begged me to kill him. I did.” his control slipped a little more as he said this, a single tear streaked down his cheek and landing on Lathian’s

While it was true that Lathian was rarely moved by anything there where always occasions in his life when something did manage to sink thru his layers of indifference. When they did it was always in a big way, with tremendous and often catastrophic results. This moved him. Wrath filled him, it did not burn near as hot as it had at Thomas’ betrayal, but it was layered with a heart wrenching sorrow he hadn’t felt then. With Thomas he was all searing fury, there was no room for remorse or anything else at all really, but now rage and anguish twisted together in his gut and warred for dominance. He had to fight to retain control of himself, to not march off to Kirkwall right then and there and start tearing down the Gallows brick for brick.

He hadn’t known Karl well, but he did know two important things about the man. First that he had been important to Anders, a former lover and fast friend. And second that he was a fully harrowed mage and good man. Making him tranquil was a grievous abuse of Chantry law. It went far beyond simple injustice, good lives had been ruined. Those crimes would be rectified. 

“I’m sorry Anders.” he breathed, and he could see Anders’ surprise at the raw and naked emotion in his voice. “He will be avenged.” he vowed. The blue light swirled in the other man’s eyes once more as he nodded his understanding. They sat like that for what seemed like an eternity, volumes being spoken silently as they looked in to each others eyes, until an all too familiar cleared throat pulled them out of it.

“Well, lovelies.” Said Varric, hoping to break the tension, or at least escape it. “It’s getting late and we have a nice long walk ahead of us in the morning. I’m going to bed.” he stood and stretched as he said this and the Hawke siblings nodded their agreement, Bethany yawning behind one graceful hand as they both rose to go to their own bedrolls. 

Lathian was amazed at how quickly the conversation’s tension had been defused. One errant comment from the dwarf and they went from contemplating murder to tucking in for bed in a matter of a heartbeats, but he found himself not minding. It always disturbed him a little when his emotions took hold like that. Besides, the others going to sleep meant he could start the pursuit of other far more interesting activities, as he had made a promise to Anders earlier that he intended to keep. He had to suppress a grin as he formulated a plan.


	3. Capter Three

****

Chapter 3

“I need to take a piss.” Lathian announced bluntly. Mostly for the reactions, which didn’t disappoint, his companions spluttering in startled indignation. He jumped to his feet and grabbed Anders by the arm. “You’re coming with me.” He ordered with mock petulance, not waiting for Anders’ consent as he started to tug him away from the fire.

“Why do you need me with you?” Anders asked, exasperated, but following all the same.

Lathian rolled his eyes. “I’m not wandering around the bloody Wounded Coast alone in the dark with my smalls around my ankles.” he said with his own air of exasperation, and rather enjoying the apparently contagious blush that had crept onto all the human’s faces. This was just too easy, and much too much fun. 

Anders huffed with disgruntled assent and Lathian continued to lead him away from the camp, pausing when they reached the outer edge of the fire’s warmth to loose a theatrical shiver. “Maker’s arse it’s cold, hold on.” he released Anders arm to retrieve his blanket from his pack, throwing it around his shoulders like a cloak before snatching up the other man’s hand and trotting away again, with only Varric seeming wise to his true intentions, throwing a wink Lathian’s way as they passed him. 

Lathian hummed to himself as he led them away from the others, lighting their path with his staff once more, until they reached the the edge of the cliff they had stood at previously. He tossed his staff to the ground, allowing it’s glow to wink out as he spread the blanket out on a relatively flat and smooth expanse of rocky ground and sat himself upon it. 

“Alone at last." Lathian grinned. He patted the ground beside him, indicating that he wished for Anders to join him. Receiving a raised eyebrow and incredulous chuckle instead.

“You sneaky bastard!” Anders barked, sounding impressed rather than upset “This whole excursion was just a ruse to get into my pants!” he laughed as he took his proffered seat beside the elf, smirking as he turned to face him.

Lathian didn’t bother wasting time. He threw himself into the larger man’s arms, straddling him as he entwined his fingers in Anders’ hair once more, pressing hungry kisses to his lips and jaw. He felt Anders’ fingers thread their way into his own hair and grasp tightly at the nape of his neck, causing him to moan at the possessive nature of the gesture. Lips parted, and tongues entwined, fighting for dominance. Lathian conceded gladly in the end, he always did, but he knew they both liked it better when he put up a fight.

Panting and breathless Anders tugged on his hair to pull him away, his eyes burning with lust and longing but also concern. “I’m not entirely certain this is a good idea.” He breathed, sounding as if every moment not kissing the elf in his lap was causing him physical pain. “We’re not who we used to be. It seems like a bad idea to just jump in bed with someone you haven’t seen in three years, and Justice is wary of the idea of sex for pleasure, he feels it is an unnecessary distraction.” 

“Fuck that” Lathian growled trying to get back to Anders’ soft lips but he was held in place by the vice like grip on his hair. It seemed he needed to change tactics and reason his way into Anders pants. “If we’d parted by choice I’d agree with you on the first point,” he started shakily “but as it stands I think it would be most unjust to keep us apart any longer.”Anders rolled his eyes at Lathian’s choice of words but said nothing as he continued. 

“As for that second point, it will not be a ‘distraction’ because aside from sleeping we wouldn’t be using this time for anything else productive. And I don’t know about you but I find sexually sated sleep to be the very best kind, very restful, so even that doesn’t hold any water.” Anders frowned as he said this, clearly considering it. “Also, you may have a Fade spirit taking up residence but you’re still a man, men have needs, they need love and acceptance, they need physical contact, they need release.” his voice morphed to a low purr as he finished, one hand stroking slyly at Anders’ groin, causing him to shudder and buck beneath him. 

Lathian pulled against Anders’ hold on his hair once more and was pleased to see it had slackened somewhat, allowing him to press his lips to the human’s ear. “Give in Beloved.” he growled, voice low and husky, the old pet name rolling from his tongue instinctively. “I know you, you’ll be far more ‘distracted’ without this. Let me help you, clear your head, make you feel good.” he pressed more firmly against Anders groin, continuing his lazy stroking and taking one ear lobe between his teeth, suckling it seductively. 

Anders made a noise somewhere between a gasp and moan, his voice ragged and hoarse as he spoke. “You are entirely too clever for your own good.” he groaned, allowing his hips to roll with Lathian’s slow caresses. He could see Anders’ barriers come crashing down, his eyes half lidded and blown with desire, and maybe a little frustration. 

“Void take you, you blasted elf.” He cursed, crushing said elf to him once again with a passionate, dominating kiss. His fist tightened once more in Lathian’s hair, his other hand kneading possessively at his rear, forcing their hips to grind together with sweet friction. Lathian moaned appreciatively at his partner’s newfound enthusiasm as their tongues danced together once more, drinking in Anders’ own hungry panting moans with much enjoyment.

They stayed like this for what felt like eternity, entwined together, kissing passionately and groping clumsily. After a time a small semblance of reason began to creep in to them and the roaming hands began to find purpose. Lathian’s delicate fingers went to work on the chain that held Anders’ jacket closed, while Anders’ fingers untied the sash at Lathian’s waist. 

The two articles came undone one right after the other, but once they where free their owners paid them no more heed, greedy fingers getting back to work. The two of them continuing to trade desperate kisses as Anders’ fingers fumbled on the tiny toggles that held Lathian’s outer robes closed. Lathian had no such trouble with the sparse buckles of the human’s robe, pulling it free and tossing it aside before assisting Anders with his own toggles. 

Both men growled with irritation when they where forced to part in order to remove the rest of their clothing. Shimmying and writhing in an attempt to get the task done quickly while putting as little thought and effort into it as possible. Anders was quicker, his shorter looser tunic sliding off easily where Lathian’s longer, more form fitting one was proving tricky. He grabbed hold of the hem, currently bunched around the elf’s hips and slid it upwards, his breath catching as the slender body was revealed. Narrow hips, slender cock straining against his smallclothes, and smooth hairless skin stretched over lean and lightly defined muscles, a silver barbell above his navel, and then... 

“Maker, your nipples too!?” and indeed there where twin loops of silver embedded in rosy buds and glinting deliciously in the moonlight.

Lathian chuckled darkly, fiddling with one of the rings seductively. “Among other things.” he said suspiciously, but Anders didn’t hear him.

Already the human was leaning forward, taking one of the rings between his lips and tugging on it gently, smirking at the approving moan he received in answer. Lathian threaded his fingers in red-gold hair once more, clutching Anders’ face to his breast as a wicked tongue toyed with one sensitive nipple and calloused fingers tugged lightly at the ring in the other. This. Was. Magnificent. 

He had become so used to living only to please his partner that he’d nearly forgotten what it was like to have such attentions heaped upon him. He panted and moaned shamelessly under the attention, his cock throbbing with need in a way that was deliciously painful. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to stay like this forever or push the human onto his back and fuck himself on Anders’ cock right this instant. 

When his fellow mage released his own small surge of electricity into both rings simultaneously Lathian decided that only the latter option would do. With a growl he tackled Anders to the ground, following him down and pinning him there with a searing kiss. He broke away after only a moment, trailing more nipping kisses along Anders jaw and neck, pausing at the junction where neck met shoulder to bite, lick, and suck until the other man was writhing with need beneath him and he was certain there would be a mark come morning. When he was satisfied he continued his trail of kisses, over collar bone and pecks, a retaliatory shock to one nipple, before moving on to ribs and abdomen. 

All the while his fingers where making quick work of the laces on Anders’ trousers, tugging them and the man’s small clothes down carefully as he placed a another kiss just above the waistband and allowing Anders’ cock to spring free. It stood proudly, rock hard and leaking precum. Lathian did not hesitate to lap up the oozing fluid, savoring the taste and the knowledge of what it represented. This man, this strong, passionate, handsome man, wanted him. Needed him. The sight of him sprawled on his back, hair tousled, near naked and chest heaving with desire... it was perhaps one of the most beautiful sights Lathian had ever seen. 

He licked the shaft from base to tip before taking the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking gently as he blindly undid the buckles of Anders’ boots. He bobbed his head shallowly as he removed first the boots then the man’s trousers, smalls, and stockings, leaving him completely bare under the pale moonlight. Anders tossed his head with a groan when Lathian allowed himself to drop lower, taking as much of the human’s proud cock as his elvhen mouth could fit, feeling it knock against the back of his throat. 

He was both amazed and intrigued by how much more of the thick shaft was left to swallow. He’d forgotten how well endowed Anders was, not excessively so by any means, but bigger than Thomas had been and certainly bigger than himself. He hummed appreciatively at the challenge, pulling up until just the head was still between his lips before plunging back downwards, his cheeks hollowed as he sucked. This time he did not stop when his mouth was filled, instead he fought his gag reflex and swallowed, sinking lower and lower until his nose was nestled in coppery curls. 

He continued his previous bobbing, taking as much of th eman in as he could on each downward push. After a time an idea struck him, smirking around his mouthful Lathian took all of Anders in once more, pressing his tongue to the base of his shaft and loosing another of his signature sparks vibrating into hard flesh. A shuddering cry tore from Anders throat that was most certainly heard back at the camp, his hands flying to Lathian’s head, entwining in his hair. Lathian suppressed a chuckle lest he choke, pulling up once more with an obscene slurping noise and soft pop. 

“Hush Beloved, hush.” He cooed, sliding himself up along Anders’ sweat slicked body to press a soothing kiss to his forehead while stroking the side of his face tenderly. 

“That.Was. Not fair.” Anders gasped, clinging to Lathian like he feared the elf would disappear. 

Lathian laughed darkly, still stroking Anders cheek and jaw. “But it was good?” he asked, certain he knew the answer already. 

It was Anders’ turn to laugh. “Too good, I say. I’ll never last if you keep that up.” he sighed, sliding one hand from Lathian’s hair to cup his jaw instead and smiling sweetly. “Maker, I’d almost forgotten how beautiful you are.” 

Lathian snorted. “I’m not a woman, Anders.”

“Don’t I know it.” Anders replied with a smirk. He rolled his hips upwards, causing Lathian’s still clothed cock to grind against his lower abdomen while his own bare one slid against the elf’s rear, the action causing both men to hiss with pleasure. “You’re still beautiful.” he growled, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of Lathian’s smallclothes and beginning to tug them down.

Lathian pressed another soft kiss to his forehead before pulling away enough to sit upright, straddling the human’s narrow hips, in order to give him a better view. A view that Anders was drinking in hungrily as the silken scrap of clothing was removed. His gaze was molten with desire and longing at first but it quickly melted into stunned shock as his prize came fully into view. 

“Andraste’s fucking knickers you are insane.” he groaned, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. Lathian had to try not to laugh at the poor man’s expense who, he noted, was still hard against his rear and not looking all that put out by what he was seeing. 

He tried to warn the human about the extent of his piercings. For indeed there had been more to see, five silver rings stacked one above the other, piercing the seam of his scrotum in a neat vertical line and a small silver barbell resting horizontally near the tip of his penis where head met shaft. Anders seemed speechless, staring at the additional piercings with a mixture of awed appreciation and bewilderment. 

After a time he shifted one of his hands from where they had been resting on Lathian’s hips to stroke tentatively at the line of rings decorating the elf’s hairless sack, before running one finger up along his shaft to fiddle with the barbell near the tip. Lathian had to suppress the urge to squirm under the feather light and tickling touches, quivering slightly despite his efforts not to. 

He gasped wantonly when Anders pressed the pad of his thumb more firmly against the bit of metal and his first two fingers stroked his sensitive head, smearing the precum that had gathered there. He closed his whole hand more firmly about his Lathian’s member, his large human hand almost completely engulfing the slender elvhen cock, stroking it firmly but slowly. Lathian hummed appreciatively at the ministrations, rolling his hips in time with Anders’ steady pumping. 

After just a few repetitions of this he could already feel burning pressure building in his belly, his climax approaching slowly. He wasn’t ready. He needed more. Leaning a little further back he reached behind him to grab hold of Ander’s cock, conjuring grease to his palm as he began his own slow stroking. The desperate moan that tore from Anders at this sent a shiver up his spine while setting his blood aflame. He could feal his reasoning leave him, his mind shutting down with lust as his body screamed for attention, begged to be touched, to be fucked.

“Need you now... in me, please!” He begged, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so empty, so desperate. 

Below him Anders nodded, removing the hand that had been wrapped around the elf to grasp his hips once more instead. He lifted Lathian up so he could guide him back down again, to the tip of his cock. Lathian was not fully prepared but his experience and need aided him, he burned with pain and it was glorious. With parted lips he panted as he slowly pushed downwards, impaling himself on Anders cock with a low moan, full of ecstacy. He paused when he was fully seated, chest heaving as he caught his breath. 

“So beautiful,” Anders murmured. “So tight.” His face was a perfect portrait of lustful bliss. His cheeks flushed, eyes hooded with pupils blown so wide as to nearly eclipse the irises, and full lips parted as he labored to breath. 

Lathian barely heard him, already the lack of movement was driving him mad. He shifted his hands to rest on Anders’ shoulders, bracing himself as he began to move slowly. Anders assisted him with his hands still on the elf’s hips, pulling him up slowly before pushing him back down, rolling his own hips in shallow thrusts to deepen their joining. 

They maintained a slow and steady speed for a time, savoring the myriad of sensations that consumed them. Lathian did not bother to suppress his pleased moans. The feeling of being so completely filled was beyond comparison, each slow thrust sent shock waves to the very core of his being and he felt like he might burst from the pleasure of them. 

Soon this too was not enough. The pace began to quicken, each thrust just the slightest bit faster and harder until they both strained with the effort of maintaining their frenzied lovemaking. A near constant mewling hummed from Lathian’s throat, mixing pleasantly with the sound of slapping flesh as Anders drove in to him, causing the many bangles and bracelets that decorated the elf’s wrists and ankles to jingle softly. He was clutching Anders’ shoulders so hard now there would likely be bruises and he suspected that the same could be said of Anders’ grip on his own hips, but he really couldn’t have cared less.

His climax had built to near excruciating levels but it wasn’t enough, he could feel himself at the edge but unable to fall over. He needed more. With a grunt of effort he pried Anders’ hands from his hips and pulled away, hissing with displeasure when he was left empty once more. For a moment the human looked worried, his brows furrowed, lust addled expression sobering surprisingly quickly when Lathian crawled away without saying a word. 

The lustful look returned to his eyes full force however, when Lathian paused beside him and allowed his upper body to collapse to the ground. His shoulders where perched on his hands, his chest and face pressed against the hard ground so he could lift his arse high into the air with his legs spread, presenting himself to the other man once more. Their eyes met and Lathian gave Anders the most welcoming ‘fuck me’ smile he could manage, his eyes smoldering with lust and need. Anders did not need to be ‘asked’ twice.

He moved with almost comical haste, muttering curses under his breath as he got to his own knees and took his place behind the elf. He could not resist the urge to slap playfully at one rounded cheek, as punishment for Lathian’s startling silence no doubt. He did not bother to restrain the blow much, which Lathian appreciated, moaning with almost exaggerated bliss as the sharp slap landed. Two more slaps cracked against his skin in swift succession, the sound nearly as gratifying as the burning sting. 

The one firm hand grasped his hip tightly, and it was the only warning he had before Anders surged forward, thrusting deep into the waiting elf at the same time that a fourth and final blow landed with more force than it’s predecessors. Lathian’s cry skipped right past wonton moaning to a throaty shout of ecstasy at the overwhelming sensation of mixed pleasure and pain. Small keening cries followed the initial shout as Anders started a brutal pace, his spare hand grasping tightly at Lathian’s golden hair as he pounded into him with wild abandon. 

It seemed something had snapped in the man, up to this point he had been almost annoyingly gentlemanly, passionate certainly, but restrained. Now he was rough, dominating, amazing. It was like some sort of dam had broken, walled off emotions tumbling out violently. Yet his gentle caring was still apparent. It was subtle, but Anders was still clearly in control of himself, still seeking mutual pleasure and not just self gratification or dominance. It was a very nice change of pace.

“By the Void, the sounds you make, elf.” The human groaned, as an especially well aimed thrust tore a throaty moan Lathian. “They should be considered a sin all their own, you’re driving me insane.” he panted, hypocritically ignoring his own complaints in favor of ensuring the sound was repeated, echoing it himself when he succeeded.

Lathian did not bother replying, he wasn’t sure he could have even if he’d wanted to. His mind was hazy and thoughts unclear, he didn’t think he had enough brainpower left for intelligent speech. All that mattered was the thick cock crashing into his prostrate and the firm hand tangled in his hair, his body burning from the inside out. Already he stood on the edge of climax again and he knew that nothing would hold him back this time. 

“So close.” he muttered, entirely out of reflex. “I’m so close, please don’t stop, please let me come!” he pleaded, words that had come to his lips so often over the years that he was only vaguely aware he’d even spoken them.

Anders’ hand slipped from his hair to grasp his cock instead. At first Lathian started to panic, thinking the man sought to deny his climax. But instead of a tight and choking ring at the base of his shaft he received a firm tug from grease slicked fingers. His gasp of relief was strangled by the mewling cry that tore after it. Anders continued to stroke him, keeping pace with his swift thrusts. 

“Say my name." Anders commanded, his voice as tight and firm as his grip. “I want to hear my name on your lips when you come." 

Lathian was glad to obey, chanting a combination of Anders’ name and 'yes please’ each time he was driven back onto that hard cock then bounced forward into the tight ring made by the man’s fingers, then back again. His pleading chant increased in tone, pitch, and frequency with each exchange until it was little more than a near incomprehensible whine. Soon there was a hoarse shout of “Anders, fuck yes!” and then he thought he might have been set on fire. 

His world exploded with searing heat, there was a roaring sound in his ears, and his vision was white but Maker be damned it felt so good, then a few short thrusts later and it got even better. Anders loosed a low growling groan that made something in Lathian’s chest flutter. His grip on the elf’s narrow hips tightened painfully as he reached his own release, buried deep inside the tight arse with Lathian’s name on his lips in a reverent plea. Lathian hummed with sleepy pleasure at the feeling of the other man’s seed spurting into him. 

Anders pulled out of him with a groan, allowing his semen to dribble freely down Lathian’s thigh, as he collapsed to the blanket beside him with a pleased sigh and tired smile on his face. Lathian allowed his knees to slide out from under him, shifting his arms upwards a little to pillow his head and not caring that he collapsed into a puddle of his own spend. 

He drifted in bonless rapture for a time before the need for contact forced him to move. He wormed his way over to Anders, who lay panting on his back. Ducking under one arm, he pressed himself flush against the human’s side, his head resting on Ander’s shoulder, his fingers drawing lazy circles in a patch of hair between the man’s pecks. 

“Cuddles?” Anders laughed breathlessly. “I thought you said you’re not a woman.” he teased, but the rib was proven empty when he tightened his hold on the elf, wrapping the smaller form in a one-armed embrace. 

“Hush, you.” Lathian growled, but without venom. He was too tired to bother with banter at the moment. For now he was content to bask in the sated warmth his release had caused. 

He was hyper-aware of everything it seemed, the steady rise and fall of Anders’ chest beneath his head, the beating of his heart as it slowed from it’s earlier frantic thundering, the warm slightly sticky feeling of their flesh pressed together, and the salty musky scent of sex and sweat. All of them where near overwhelming in their intensity. He hadn’t had much occasion to savor these things in the past, he was loathe to give them up now that he had a chance. 

“By the way.” he murmured sleepily. “What happened to that earing I made you?” he shifted slightly so he could see Anders’ face and fiddle with the empty hole in the other man’s right ear. 

“Hm? Oh, right...” Anders peered at him with unfocused eyes, clearly not functioning at full brainpower yet. “Wound up having to sell it to get supplies for the clinic.” he mumbled, brushing Lathian’s hand aside to toy with his ear himself. “T’was harder to part with it than I thought’d be. It was all I had of... of you.” his voice cracked slightly as he finished and his expression looked lost and sad.

Lathian stretched to press a kiss to the end of his nose, offering him a comforting smile. “Would you like me to make you a new one?”

Anders returned the smile, still bittersweet. “I think I would like that, yes.” he said softly stroking the line of rings in Lathain’s left ear. Suddenly his gaze turned distant and his voice quavered “Maker have mercy on our souls, what do we do now?” he asked, still looking lost and now a little worried as well. Lathian sighed internally, it seemed like reality was going to set in already. The peaceful afterglow was nice while it lasted. 

What would they do now? They couldn’t just pick up where they left off, they where different people now, with different lives, there was no going back. Could they start something new then? He wasn’t sure that was a good idea either. Was he ready to hand his reigns over to another so soon? No, no he was not. 

He knew that Anders was not Thomas, was nothing like him. But then Thomas had not always been cruel and controlling. If given enough time would Anders turn out the same way? The logical part of Lathian’s mind was doubtful, but the emotional side was still licking the festering wounds Thomas had left behind, and it was more than hesitant. 

But on the other hand, he was unwilling to just push Anders away. He’d cared for the man when they’d been together, more than he’d known was wise, and those feelings lingered. Now that they’d tumbled back in to each others lives it seemed criminal to just go their separate ways and forget what they’d had ever existed. 

“We start over.” Lathian finally replied. “We take things slow from here.” He placed a soft chaste kiss to Anders’ lips before pushing away to sit up. “I’m not ready for another committed relationship and it sounds like you’ve not got the time for one anyway.”

“You have no idea.” Anders replied with bitter amusement. He ran his fingers thru his hair, pulling out the leather thong that was failing to keep it tied back and messily re-tieing his tail, a sheepish expression taking hold of his features when he finished. “And about what you’d said earlier, about abstinence being it’s own distraction...” Lathian smirked, he liked where this was going. “I’d managed to stay dry for months but I don’t think I can continue doing that with you right here. Not after that.” He gestured vaguely at the patch of blanket beside Lathian currently sporting several suspicious new stains. “Would you be terribly adverse to helping me ah... ‘clear my head’ from time to time?” 

Lathian laughed merrily, oh the man had a good memory, turning his own words against him so spectacularly. He beamed at Anders with what was probably a profoundly salacious grin “I’d be happy to ‘help’ in any way I can!” He exclaimed “...from time to time.” he added, his tone laced with a faux haughtiness as he pretended to inspect his finger nails.

Anders returned his grin. “Friends with benefits it is then.” He rose to his feet then, long legs clearly still shaky as he went about gathering his various articles of clothing. “We’d best get cleaned up and head back to camp.”

Lathian nodded his agreement and clambered to his one feet, wavering with exhaustion and a feeling of bonelessness. They cleaned themselves as best they could with the already soiled blanket, before donning their clothing once more. Anders lighting their path this time as they trudged tiredly back to camp.

Hawke was waiting for them when they returned, sitting on a rock with his sword laying across his lap and Gratch asleep at his feet. He offered a wink as way of greeting, taking in their disheveled appearances with a knowing smile. “Must have been some piss.” he said evenly chuckling amusedly as Anders began to splutter with embarrassment. “Varric, Bethy, and I have agreed to take all the watches tonight, you two go get some sleep.”

Anders began to protest but Lathian took him by the arm and led him away to the tiny alcove of rock where the bedrolls had been placed in a neat line, Varric and Bethany already asleep in two of them. “Let’s just get some rest, Beloved.” Lathian said soothingly when Anders continued to protest the watch assignments “Kirkwall, and all her cancerous glory, await us in the morning.”


End file.
